


Hiding in Plain Sight

by aerClassic



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: M/M, Someone save Jongho, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 03:45:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18792319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerClassic/pseuds/aerClassic
Summary: San is serious when he says Yunho and Hongjoong are one sexually frustrated interaction away from making him lose his lunch.





	Hiding in Plain Sight

**Author's Note:**

> ~~(still on the fence about this one but it's been sitting finished in my drafts for over two weeks now. so. fuck it, yolo.)~~   
>    
> 

 

 

Seonghwa loves his group members, really he does, but this is the fourth time in two weeks that someone has snuck into his and Hongjoong’s shared room at ass o’clock in the morning to hassle his roommate into snuggling with them.

Most of the time it’s Mingi. Or Jongho. Or Jongho _and_ Mingi—which never fucking works and Seonghwa isn’t sure why they think three people are going to fit, much less _sleep_ , in one tiny bunk—but tonight, _this morning_ , it’s apparently Yunho tiptoeing his way across the room like some kind of creepy sleep burglar.

Seonghwa should probably say something like, “why can none of you sleep by yourselves” or “buddy, if you make any more noise I’m going to throw a slipper at your head”. He should slap at Yunho and make him turn around and go back to his own room instead of disturbing Hongjoong, who has spent the better part of the week obsessively working on some new concept he’d come up with, except…

It's blatantly obvious Yunho has the world’s most adorable crush on their leader. It may as well be a blazing bumper sticker that reads “I **❤** Hongjoong” slapped across the boy’s forehead. Though, to be fair, Hongjoong more than likely has a matching one that reads "Jeong Yunho is Bae" or something equally revolting hidden underneath his shirt over the steady thump-thump of his heart. Big idiots, Seonghwa sighs quietly. Maybe someday they'll get it together.

Seonghwa is nothing if not a kind and benevolent hyung, so he lets the creaking of the floorboards slide. He tries to let the drowsiness pull him back under while Yunho flops on top of the lump in Hongjoong’s bed and whines quietly until his roommate rolls over just enough to allow Yunho room to snuggle up next to him under his covers and giggle together for long moments.

‘I am kind and benevolent,’ Seonghwa thinks, ‘I’m not going to throw a slipper at them even though it is _right there—_ ’

Just before finally falling back asleep Seonghwa imagines he hears the unmistakable soft sound of lips meeting skin. Sneaky boy, Seonghwa smiles, Yunho probably snuck in a cheek kiss.

When Seonghwa wakes up the next morning, Yunho is still curled protectively around Hongjoong’s drooling, sleeping frame fiddling with something on Hongjoong’s phone.

“Morning,” Seonghwa rasps at him. “What are you doing?”

Yunho startles, gives him a sheepish grin and whispers back, “Morning, hyung. I was turning off Hongjoong-hyung’s alarm since we don’t have a schedule today.”

“Ah.” Seonghwa scrubs a hand down his face, frowns when he feels how puffy his cheeks seem. Ugh, the ramyun for dinner was a bad decision. “Well don’t let him sleep in too late, you’ll mess up his routine.” He gets up to smooth a hand down Yunho’s fringe where it’s turned into a fluffy tangle and smiles when his dongsaeng leans into it like an overly affectionate cat. “Want me to start you some breakfast?”

“Nah, we’ll be up in like an hour.” Hongjoong mumbles something in his sleep and shifts closer to rub his nose into Yunho’s chest. Seonghwa stomps hard on the coo trying to crawl out of his throat at the lovestruck expression on Yunho’s face. He decides to leave them to cuddle in peace, though Seonghwa does laugh his ass off once he’s sequestered himself in the bathroom.

 

*******

 

On the list of things Wooyoung expects to see when he walks into the living room, Hongjoong asleep in Yunho’s lap holding a half finished reformed sandal while Yunho plays a video game on mute is not even in the top twenty. Hell, not even in the top _fifty_. Jongho lifting San above his head like personal weight lifting equipment would be more likely.

Wooyoung blinks, rubs at his eyes like he’s witnessing some kind of bizarre mirage and, when the pair of them are still there, has to ask, “Uh, whatcha doin’?”

Yunho only spares him a quick glance before going back to concentrate on the television screen. “Hyung looked like he was about to fall over.” He says it so calmly and with such a reasonable tone as if that's all the explanation he needs. Like, _of course_ Yunho would just plop their semi-narcoleptic leader in his lap the second it looks as if Hongjoong is going to fall over. Who falls asleep painting sandals anyway?

Yunho curses quietly between clenched teeth, starts furiously mashing buttons. The motion of his arms around Hongjoong’s waist must disturb his sleep because Hongjoong makes a grumbling noise complete with irritated nose scrunch. Yunho pauses immediately to make quiet soothing noises into his ear and adjust the angle of Hongjoong’s head against his neck.

Wooyoung thinks he's justified at this juncture in miming a gag behind Yunho's back. “Why don’t I get Jongho to pick him up and put hyung to bed so you can play your game with sound like a normal person.”

The glare Yunho settles on him is the nastiest thing Wooyoung has ever seen cross Yunho’s usually friendly face in a long time. Wooyoung actually has to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep from laughing.

“That won’t be necessary,” Yunho sniffs and shifts the arms around Hongjoong’s waist visibly tighter. “He’s fine, we’re fine.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’s a good headrest.” Yunho says defensively and makes a point to rest his chin against the crown of Hongjoong’s hair. “Just...go away and bother San.”

“I thought he was in the dance hall with Mingi and Seonghwa-hyung?”

“Nope,” Yunho goes back to his game. “He’s taking a nap in our room, I think.”

Well.

Wooyoung doesn’t need to be told twice. He doesn't _necessarily_ run down the hallway to San and Yunho's room but the pace he sets is decidedly brisk. 

 

*******

 

The next day, San gives the hallway one last suspicious glance before he shuts the door to his and Yunho’s room, locking it behind him. When he turns back to address the members clustered together on the bunk and a sad beanbag chair that had seen better days, like, a year and a half ago, it’s with an air of exaggerated solemnity.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to—“

Jongho snorts unattractively from his position next to Mingi on the bed and says, “I thought this was a meeting, not a funeral.”

Sitting in Seonghwa’s lap, who’s playing with the ends of the strings attached to Yeosang’s hoodie, Yeosang quietly adds, “We’re missing some people if we’re having a meeting. Yunho and Hongjoong-hyung aren’t here.” A series of agreeing hums echo around the room.

“If you would all kindly shut the fuck up and let me finish,” San huffs, hands on his hips, “I was going to say we are gathered here today to discuss those two because they are making me  _physically ill_.”

He means it, too. San can no longer count on one hand the number of times Yunho had come back from his evening shower just before bed to sigh dreamily at his phone and the image of a flushed and sweaty Hongjoong smiling at a person behind the camera—probably a fansite—feels like it’s been burned into San’s _retinas_. There’s a terrible memory that lurks in the back of his mind of Yunho, sprawled out on the floor and drunk on soju someone had managed to sneak into the dorm, babbling about his own personal ranking of favorite Hongjoong Hair Colors ranked from ‘best’ to ‘would fuck on sight’.

Unsurprisingly, most of them landed in the second category.

The only reason San hadn’t vomited out his spleen immediately was because of his finely honed gag reflex—thank you, Wooyoung.

Seonghwa stops playing with Yeosang’s hoodie to raise a hand and ask, “Question. What are we talking about?”

“Jeong Yunho and Kim Hongjoong being gross people.”

“I think we’re all gross people,” Mingi says, currently lounging in a face mask with Wooyoung and Jongho on either side of him in silent competition of who can braid his hair The Most™.  “Not just those two.” San rolls his eyes.

“I meant they’re gross people in love with each other and too stupid to do anything about it.” Jongho makes a distressed noise at this, San steadfastly ignores him. “We need to come up with a plan to get them together. Any ideas?”

“I have an idea,” Jongho releases a braid looking hunted. “I say we leave this alone and let them keep doing what they’re doing.”

San squints at him. “Why? That’s stupid, _they’re_ stupid, and we need to help them before I lose my damn mind.” He folds his arms, “I caught Yunho staring at hyung’s ass yesterday during practice. And the day before that. And the day before _that_.”

“I didn’t even realize they were into each other,” Yeosang murmurs. San stares at him, disbelieving, while Mingi and Wooyoung both try to smother their laughter into the collars of their shirts.

Seonghwa lets out an adoring sound and pets a hand through Yeosang’s hair. “Aw, our precious naive ‘Sang-ah.”

“I’m not naive,” Yeosang says smacking the hand away from his head. “So we know Yunho is an ass man, big deal. I'm an ass man and hyung has a nice one, it's hard not to notice." The wounded noise Seonghwa makes at the admission goes ignored by everyone. "How do we know Hongjoong-hyung likes him back? How do we even know they’re _gay_? This all feels like conjecture to me and I'm not into it.”

Seonghwa leans his chin on Yeosang’s shoulder. “As his roommate, just trust me when I say Hongjoong _really_ likes him back. Especially in his sleep.” The room is silent for a moment before Wooyoung chimes in with an “oh, gross” over the sound of Jongho fake sobbing into the coverlet and then “hah! Dude you only made three braids? I have like seven on this side!” to which Mingi starts whipping his head around to try and flick Wooyoung in the face with them.

San feels like maybe this meeting is getting away from him. He probably should have expected this to happen since the members of the group have the collective attention span of a golden retriever—five minutes on a good day, less if there’s a squirrel or something shiny—so he claps his hands together in an attempt to gain their attention again. “Hey, focus, please! We need to come up with a plan before they come back from getting food!”

“Why not just sit them down and tell them?” Wooyoung offers.

“Because they would just lie and say we’re trying to prank them.” San answers, matter of factly. “Next.”

Mingi holds his chin in his hand as if in deep thought, “What if we lock them into a room together and don’t let them out until they confess? That's a romcom trope that works, right?” Jongho lets out a pathetic sounding mewl and seems to try and suffocate himself with one of San’s pillows. Mingi slaps his ass, “Yo maknae, for real what is your damage?”

“I want no part in this, I beg you,” comes the muffled reply.

“We’re a team so suck it up and deal, bitch,” is San’s tart answer. “Seonghwa-hyung? Yeosang-ie? Any ideas?”

Yeosang shrugs a shoulder. “I thought sitting them down and saying it to their faces would be good enough.” Yeosang returns the high five Wooyoung sends his way with a smile.

Their impromptu meeting is unceremoniously interrupted by the sound of the door chime followed by a voice pitched deep announcing “Honey I’m home!” to the empty living room. “I thought they’d take longer,” San gripes and goes to unlock the door to their room before Yunho tries the doorknob and gives him that shitty ‘oh-ho someone’s been jacking it’ look San hates so much. “Alright, everyone out, let’s go. We’ll try this again later.”

They file out one by one. Seonghwa makes a point to muss San’s hair on the way out, because he’s an asshole who knows his dongsaeng can’t retaliate, and San contemplates sneaking something bitter into his morning energy smoothie as revenge. The fantasy lasts for as long as it takes him to make it to the dining table behind everyone else and witnesses Yunho staring hungrily at Hongjoong biting into a sausage on a stick, mouth gaping and leg bouncing with poorly concealed lust.

San is going to  _hurl_.

Wooyoung mouths ‘holy shit’ at him from across the table and San, honestly, could not agree more.

This has got to stop.

 

*******

 

There are few people Yeosang will go to when he has a problem, Hongjoong being his first choice by a large margin followed by Seonghwa or Wooyoung. Right now his options are limited considering Wooyoung is too busy trying to suffocate on San's dick and Seonghwa is busy being the cause of all his problems. Not for the first time Yeosang appreciates KQ deciding Hongjoong should be the leader; as much as they all tend to clown him for being their weird uncle type friend, Hongjoong is easy enough to talk to, never judges, and will actually listen intently when someone has a genuine issue.

Usually.

 _Usually_  Hongjoong will pay attention.

Today is apparently a different story because Hongjoong is only giving distracted hums when Yeosang tries to describe the Seonghwa Conundrum™ he’s under.

“Hyung keeps saying I’m pretty but he never does anything about it,” Yeosang gripes, arms folded while he spins around in the extra chair he’d rolled into Hongjoong’s closet studio.

“Hmm.”

“Like yesterday he told me we should wear couple shirts and then milly rocked for no reason. How am I supposed to respond to that?”

Hongjoong nods, still staring at the screen of different sliders and weirdly flushed. “That’s tough.”

Yeosang frowns at him. What the fuck?

Experimentally, Yeosang tries, “San says he’s going to run away to the circus.”

“Uh-huh.” Hongjoong gives the sliders another aimless click. Yeosang doesn’t know much about the creation side of things when it comes to music production but that looked like it did fuck all to the overall sound.

“Wooyoung told me he wants the next concept to be us in lingerie and kinky knee high boots from his personal collection.” Yeosang deadpans.

“Sounds nice.”

Yeosang finally gives up, throws his hands in the air in frustration. “Hyung! What is wrong with you?”

Hongjoong startles hard, knocks both his knee against the desk and his glasses askew on his nose. “What? Nothing! Sorry, Yeosang-ah, say that last part again.”

Before Yeosang can accuse him of being a worldclass dickhole, Yunho comes bursting in visibly flushed and sweaty and panting into his knees with a discreet black plastic bag wrapped around one wrist. “Hyung, they were out of our favorite, but—”

Hongjoong goes pale and starts yelling over Yunho’s speech, “Ah, Yunho! How nice to see you so late at night without knocking! Yeosang, he’s so rude right?

Yeosang raises his eyebrows when Yunho finally looks up. “What, oh god,” Yunho gulps loud, “Hello.”

Hongjoong rights his glasses and spins back around to pretend to click around uselessly on his laptop. Yeosang levels a squinting side eye at Yunho who fidgets nervously in the doorway. “They were out of your favorite what?”

“Snacks,” Yunho replies.

“Drinks,” Hongjoong says.

Both of them pause to make eye contact somewhere above Yeosang’s head. “Snacks and drinks,” they say together.

For the sake of his sanity, Yeosang decides to let it slide. He knows for a fact the company vending machines have all been restocked in the last day, he saw the contractors wheel in their carts just this morning. Plus there is no way that tiny ass bag has a bottle of anything resembling a drink inside. “Okay, well. I think I’m just going to go yell at Seonghwa-hyung myself. Thanks anyway, hyung-nim.”

“Sure,” Hongjoong gives him an apologetic smile. Yeosang kind of hates him because the expression makes it almost impossible not to forgive Hongjoong immediately. “Sorry I wasn’t much help, man.”

Yeosang just waves him off. On his way out the door, before it shuts out all sound behind him, Yeosang hears Hongjoong whispering harshly, “I can’t believe you didn’t knock!” followed by Yunho’s equally panicked sounding “Well how was I supposed to know he’d be here?”

Better not to know, Yeosang supposes. Start thinking too much and you end up like San holding wannabe conspiracy theory meetings in your dorm room.

 

(That doesn't stop him from texting the group chat and letting them know the Locked In a Room idea was most likely out.)

 

*******

 

As an experiment, San decides to test the waters and waits until Yunho is enjoying his nightly ritual of staring at his phone, whether that means playing a game or doing that gross thing he does with his face at Hongjoong-centric fansites San’s not sure. He doesn’t necessarily want to lean over the railing of their bunk to find out, either.

“Say, Yunho,” he starts, quiet and unassuming and sweet like he’s not about to drop a bomb on Yunho’s head.

“Hmm?” Is the distracted answer.

“Are you ever going to tell Hongjoong-hyung how much you actually want to date him?”

Something that sounds suspiciously like a phone smacking someone full force in the nose echoes from the space below. “Um. How do you know about that?”

“Dude.”

“What?” Yunho stands up to prop his chin on San’s mattress. His ears are crimson, San smirks. “It’s a valid question.”

“It’s really not,” San retorts and shoves Shiber into Yunho’s face to make him be not so close to San’s nose. “Remember the night one of the managers decided to sneak us that case of soju and you spent two hours on the floor in here?”

Yunho bats Shiber out of the way. “No? I do remember waking up on the floor because you were too mean to get me into my bed though.” He pouts.

San rolls his eyes, pinches the jut of Yunho’s lip because _hello_ , that is his brand and it’s not going to work here, buddy. “Because you’re a grown ass man and you weigh a ton and I don’t have the Jongho sized muscles to move you.” He ignores Yunho’s whining attempts at getting his lip free. “Anyway you decided to tell me all the ways hyung’s hair gets your dick hard.”

It’s quiet for a moment while Yunho gapes his mouth open and closed like a fish out of water.

“I did not.”

“You did,” San stresses a tad evilly. “Apparently the brown with the buzzcut sides made you want to offer yourself up like a buffet. I don't think I can even repeat what the red did to you.”

San watches with interest as Yunho’s face goes pale, then turns a burning red, and he lets out a noise that sounds a lot like ‘buhfndmfn’ or some approximation of a dying buffalo when he drops down to hide into the space between his knees.

“Bro, are you having a stroke?”

“Oh my god,” comes the groaning reply. “Why am I allowed to speak? Please forget everything that came out of my mouth.”

San stifles his laughter into his comforter. “I generally do.”

San hears Yunho slowly climb his way back into his bunk, springs creaking against the shifting weight. He can imagine the flushed scowl on Yunho face when he says, “You’re an asshole.”

“Whatever.” San yawns. Yunho grumbles a little but goes back to typing on his phone.

It’s quiet enough, for long enough, that San feels the pull of sleep creeping up on him. Just before he drops into dreamland he thinks, ‘Yunho never actually answered the question.’

 

*******

 

Somehow they’ve managed to get a rare night of being left to their own devices without managerial supervision so Mingi drags Yunho, Wooyoung, and San to sneak out on a quest for the greasiest, spiciest tteokbokki and fried dumplings they can find. Three street vendors, an enterprising young man with a cotton candy machine, and several mouthfuls of empty calories later, they end their adventure at a noodle stand serving some crazy looking jjajangmyun topped with what looks like a pound of soft boiled eggs.

“Oh hey, we should buy some tteokbokki for Yeosang on  the way back,” Wooyoung voices. “He’d be pissed if he found out we got some without him.”

“Already on it,” San says through a mouthful of pork dumpling from the last stall. “Jongho and Seonghwa wanted me to bring back some meat skewers too.”

Wooyoung makes an agreeing hum and proceeds to burn the fuck out of his mouth biting into a fresh soup dumpling. Mingi and San both laugh while Yunho stands off to the side texting someone with a frown on his face. Mingi decides to interrupt whatever conversation he’s having by slinging an arm around Yunho’s shoulders. “Someone piss you off?”

“Oh, no, Hongjoong-hyung keeps saying he doesn’t want anything.”

Mingi leans more of his weight against Yunho’s side. “So leave him alone to get his own food?”

Yunho blows out a breath and runs a hand through his fringe, face contorted in mild concern. “If I do that, he’s going to forget to eat again.”

“Dude, he’s a grown man. Let him make his own choices.”

Yunho purses his lips and tells him, very matter of fact, “It's my job to make sure everyone is happy and healthy.” He frowns down at a new message that pinged to type something Mingi can’t quite catch before pocketing his phone again. “That includes eating.”

Mingi snorts at him. In the background, Wooyoung is fanning at his tongue while San laughs evilly and takes commemorative pictures to more than likely send to Jongho. “Since when is that your job?”

“Since we—” Yunho clacks his mouth shut, cheeks suddenly a faint pink. “Since I said so, leave me alone.”

“Whatever,” Mingi finishes the last of his grilled skewer and sucks the juice off his fingers. “By the way, when are you telling hyung you have the hots for him?”

Yunho goes rigid beneath his arm. “I don't know what you're talking about. Have you and San been gossiping?”

"Sort of." Mingi gives him a friendly hip check while San, having given up on his Wooyoung torture, places more orders at the counter. “We all know you like him, dude. I’m not, like, totally sure where hyung stands on the matter but you know he’d never hold it against you.” Mingi watches Yunho toe a line in the dirt on the sidewalk.

“Um,” Yunho is turning an interesting shade of vermillion starting at his ears, slowly working its way down his neck and underneath the gaping neckline of Yunho’s oversized sweater.  Mingi kind of wants to pull a San and take a picture for posterity. “I don’t—”

“I’m your best friend, Yunho, I know you. Quit being a coward and tell hyung.” He nudges an elbow teasingly into Yunho’s side. “For what it’s worth, I support you. It's totally fine you want to bone a member of the group, just look at San and Wooyoung!”

“Right. Sure. Totally fine with it.” Yunho squeaks out. “I’m gonna go order him some noodles, bye.”

Whipped piece of shit. Mingi sighs fondly.

 

*******

 

San takes it upon himself to declare they need to have a family togetherness night and essentially bullies everyone into gathering into the living room after their last practice—and subsequent showers because, good god, eight bodies’ worth of B.O. can kill a man dead at fifty paces—for a movie marathon of his choosing. Probably a medley of Avengers and Guardians of the Galaxy because Chris Pratt is hot like burning.

It’ll be fun to see how long San can get away with making dreamy eyed comments about the guy’s abs before Wooyoung breaks.

“But I’m tired,” Jongho sighs dramatically, drapes himself languidly across the for once empty coffee table to make aggrieved noises into the faux granite top.

Hongjoong flops down to the side of the table and rests his head against Jongho’s arm in solidarity. “I’m with Jongho on this one.” They share a slow low five like geriatric old men. “It’s late, San-ie, I don’t think I’d be able to make it through one movie much less three.”

“They could,” San says, pointing to Mingi and Yunho and Seonghwa in the kitchen taking turns dancing to the new TWICE single and giggling when someone fucks up.

Hongjoong scoffs. “I’m pretty sure Mingi and Yunho inject sugar directly into their veins when we’re not looking, they don’t count.” Hongjoong yawns and pets Jongho’s head fondly when their maknae fakes snoring. “And Seonghwa is a giant toddler. He’ll conk out in two seconds once he actually sits down and stops moving.”

“Are you talking about Seonghwa-hyung or yourself?” Wooyoung massages the tense line of Hongjoong’s shoulders. “Come on, hyung, we don’t get to watch movies as a group very often.”

San can’t let Wooyoung outdo him and decides to plop himself down into Hongjoong’s lap, flutters his lashes and gives Hongjoong a sultry, “Please, hyung-ah? For me?” He puckers his lips like he’s going in for a kiss.

He means for it to be a funny joke between friends, but the next thing San knows, Yunho is dragging him bodily up and away out of Hongjoong’s personal bubble and clear across the room like a jealous boyfriend. San blinks. “Hey, Yunho. Sup?”

“Oh, uh,” Yunho falters. “We should—snacks?”

Hongjoong, lulled almost half asleep by the impromptu shoulder massage and the slow lassitude of a hard day’s work, lets slip, “I don’t think ‘we should snacks’ is good grammar, babe.”

All activity stops. Wooyoung stops massaging Hongjoong’s shoulders. Mingi and Seonghwa stop their weird girl group inspired dance-a-thon. Yeosang continues to quietly surf the internet on his phone, totally unbothered by the theatrics around him.

San stares at Yunho’s suddenly bashful expression and has the sudden realization that he should probably sit down before all the blood rushing in his ears turns into him busting his kneecaps in a dead faint. "Babe? You— _what_?"

Hongjoong coughs, pulls his beanie further over his head to avoid making eye contact with anyone. “Oops?”

Jongho, still lying face down on the coffee table, starts laughing hysterically.

 

*******

 

It starts likes this: Jongho finds out first.

Unfortunately for him, Jongho also finds out the traumatizing way instead of the sweet ‘accidental pet name’ fiasco. The first few times he notices Jongho just assumes it’s a trick of the light, that maybe he was overtired and imagining things.

For instance the movie night sometime after their initial grouping on their trip to LA (back when Junyoung was still with them and Jongho got to be called ‘hyung’ for fucking once) where Yunho had squeezed himself into the small space left between Hongjoong and the rest of the couch. Nothing out of the ordinary there, they all tended to climb over each other in makeshift puppy piles when left to their own devices—Mingi, in particular, was especially comfy when Jongho needed to crack his back on something, _someone_. Nothing new until Jongho looked over to see Yunho and Hongjoong cuddled together, hands clasped nearly hidden between their bodies, and Yunho’s thumb tracing slow circles around one of Hongjoong’s knuckles.

Jongho turns back to the movie. It’s late, everyone’s tired, it’s probably just a reflex for them at this point. Total bro thing to do. Maybe it helps Hongjoong sleep and Yunho is just trying to be his usual caring self.

Jongho immediately puts it out of his mind and doesn’t think about it again.

He doesn’t think about it when Yunho grabs at Hongjoong’s hips during a hug instead of, like, his neck or something like normal friends do. He doesn’t think about it when Hongjoong whispers something in Yunho’s ear after one of their practices, smirking when Yunho goes red up to his hairline. Jongho _really_ doesn’t think about it when he notices Yunho, sitting at the kitchen table, staring intensely at Hongjoong as he licks the cherry red tip of a bomb pop and _winks—_

It all comes to a head when Jongho decides to beg off of some shopping trip Seonghwa and Yeosang want to drag everyone to while Hongjoong is ‘out of town’ and Yunho is busy…’elsewhere’ in favor of staying home for a nap. Apparently Hongjoong and Yunho didn’t get the memo their maknae was staying in because barely 45 minutes in to a very nice dream about performing on a world stage, Jongho is awoken by the unmistakable sound of a man moaning. A very _recognizable_ man moaning followed by another voice and the slow creak of a bed frame being put under extreme duress.

Jongho can’t find his noise cancelling headphones fast enough, will never be able to go through enough therapy to unhear Hongjoong very clearing saying, “Oh _fuck_ , Yunho—baby—give me another I can take it”.  
  
How no one else has noticed the pair of them going at it when they _think_ they're alone is anybody’s fucking guess.  
  
So when San gathers them in his room to discuss ways to get Yunho and Hongjoong together—when Jongho knows for a _fact_ they already are—and give them free reign to be disgusting while they _know_ they're not alone, Jongho _wants nothing to do with it_. 

 

*******

  

“So, wait, let me get this straight,” San rubs at his temples in a vain attempt at staving off his impending headache, ignoring Mingi’s immature “You mean let me get this ‘gay’ am I right?” comment followed by Wooyoung’s whiny, “Dude, you’re such a fucking two year old” and the subsequent playful-but-not-really slap fight. “You two are actually together?”

Hongjoong and Yunho, having been forcibly placed side by side on the couch while the rest of the group cluster around them for the interrogation, both nod their heads in agreement. Hongjoong fiddles with the cluster of rings on his fingers, “That is correct, yes.”

“How long has this been going on?”

The two glance at each other. Yunho is the first to speak up with a quiet, “I think...since the third week?” Hongjoong bobs his head. “Yeah, third week.”

“Third week of what?” Seonghwa interjects, “The month? The year?”

Hongjoong hides his face behind his palms, obviously embarrassed by the whole situation. Yunho smiles wide, essentially vibrating in place from the excited bounce of his knees, and leans his weight against Hongjoong’s side with a peace sign held up to his eye. “Third week after we met.”

San drops to the floor. “Oh my god,” he says in his accented english, “Oh my god.”

Wooyoung stops slapping at Mingi long enough to ask, “Why did you guys keep it a secret for so long? You know we wouldn’t have cared.”

“Oh, we know.” Yunho laughs while Hongjoong pinches his thigh hissing, “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” under his breath. “But the sneaking around was _really…_ ” He coughs.

“Wait. Wait. Wait.” Yeosang finally drags himself into the conversation. “The other night when I was trying to get advice about Seonghwa-hyung,” (“Aw, Yeosang-ah!” Seonghwa wraps himself around Yeosang’s shorter frame. Yeosang ignores him.) “What was actually in that bag, Yunho?”

“You don’t want to know,” Hongjoong says at the same time Yunho enthusiastically replies, “Lube!”

“I’m out.” Jongho claps his hands and turns to leave the room. “I’m done, goodbye.”

“I’m coming with you, this is too much for my brain to handle.” Mingi trots after him.

“I can’t believe we never noticed.” San whines into the floor. “I was trying to come up with a plan to get you together, what the fuck!”

“Well at least now you know you don’t have to?” Hongjoong tries. “We, uh, appreciate the thought at least.”

“Yeah, it’s sweet,” Yunho adds.

San, very nicely, only throws up a rude hand gesture in reply and chooses to disregard the slipper chucked in the direction of his head.

“This has all been very...enlightening and we’re all very happy for you,” Wooyoung drops down to get San to stop smushing his face into their dirty floor. “But I think that's enough oversharing for one night, I’m going to put this one to bed.”

Yunho yells after them, “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!”

“I’m gonna kill him,” San mutters darkly into Wooyoung’s neck. “I’m gonna do it.”

“There, there, calm down,” Wooyoung rubs a soothing hand down San’s spine. “You’re too pretty to go to prison for murder just yet.”

" _Yet_." San scowls without heat. “You’d still make conjugal visits if I did though, right?”

Wooyoung giggles. “Duh.”

 

*******

 

Telling them to quit hiding was a mistake on many levels. There are some things San really, truly didn't need to know about Yunho and Hongjoong's escapades. 

“I told you,” Jongho says viciously with his hands cupped over a pair of earplugs, “I  _told_ you we should have just left them alone.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to yell @ me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/AerClassic/) when i'm not playing hooky from social media/the internet in general (':


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